


Beginning's End

by libbertyjibbit



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Eyes, Gen, Pre-Canon, mild body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-25 22:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18172133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/libbertyjibbit/pseuds/libbertyjibbit
Summary: He kills Gertrude not because he wants to, but the because it has to be done.Jon's beginning. Gertrude's end. And in the middle of it all, Elias.





	Beginning's End

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuses for this except it wouldn't leave me alone.

****

He kills Gertrude not because he wants to, but because it has to be done. Because she is trying to destroy everything and it can’t be allowed. It is necessary, and he is very good at doing what it necessary. But he takes no pleasure in the act.

He tells her this while pointing a gun at her chest. Gertrude, caught out at last, tilts her head. He waits, wishing he could see what she is thinking, but her mind – as well as the mind of any Archivist – is closed to him. But she doesn’t keep him in suspense for long. She laughs. Laughs like he’s told a great joke, but no one had ever accused him of being amusing, not even when he was just a normal man who smoked too much pot and had no other ambition than making enough money to continue on as he was.

“Oh, Elias. Don’t start lying now,” she says, her voice a rasp. He’d like to think it’s fear that does it, but he knows Gertrude; she does not fear him. The spark in her eyes is not defiance but a hard sort of mirth. “We both know you’re going to enjoy this immensely.”

Elias smiles. “I must admit I have been looking forward to it.”

“I’m flattered.” The words are dry, and Elias feels a spike of real regret shoot through him. She’d been so close, Gertrude. So close to what they needed. Still. Close isn't quite good enough. He shoots. Three bullets. He is sure that one would do the job admirably, but he believes in being thorough. She falls to the ground and does not get up, although she does not die immediately. He waits, and watches, not only because he wants to but because he has to. It is his place, and to turn away from it would be to condemn himself to the same fate.

When he is certain that Gertrude is dead he steps towards the body, unmindful of the blood he's getting on himself as he crouches down next to it. He slides his fingers in between Gertrude’s lips and pries open her mouth, then rises, steps away. Waits.

The first of the eyes rolls out of her mouth and onto the floor with a soft sound that he hears more with his mind than his ears. It swivels until it finds him, iris pointed his way, and then begins to roll, sliding over the spreading pool of red without seeming to touch it. It comes to a stop at Elias’s feet, bright blue iris once more fixed upon him. Another eye slides out of Gertrude’s body. Another. Another. More and more spill out of her mouth and come to him until Elias finds himself surrounded on all sides by eyes, all of them fixed on him, watching. Waiting. His skin crawls with a mix of revulsion and pleasure, and he fixes his gaze on the blue eye, the first.

He speaks a name.

The eyes roll out, all of them, heading up into the body of the Institute. Elias looks at the mess around him and sighs, then rolls up his sleeves and gets to work. Most of his attention is on the task at hand – it wouldn’t do to be sloppy and forget something – but he also keeps track of the eyes as they move, weaving in between feet as they seek their target. One brushes over the open toes of a woman’s shoe; she absently scratches at it with her other foot, her mouth a moue of distaste. One with a pretty green iris is very nearly stepped on by a man crossing over to his mate’s desk; he hesitates without knowing why, and the eye rolls under his foot unmolested.

They make their way into the bowels of the library, where a man sits, hunched over a book, squinting down at its pages and scowling. He would do better to move out of the stacks and into the light, Elias knows, but he also knows that he won’t, that he would consider it too much of an interruption.

The blue eye reaches him first. It slides up his body and into his muttering mouth. He coughs and then swallows hard, twice, bringing a hand up to massage his throat and looking puzzled. But then the moment passes, and he turns back to the book, once again engrossed in his research. The rest go in more easily; he never notices a thing.

Once safely nestled inside the man's body, the eyes close as if in slumber. They are waiting, biding their time. They will open when he’s ready. Soon, Elias will call him into his office. He already knows how it will go. He will be surprised at the offer, an incredible promotion for someone at his level. Surprised but not suspicious; deep inside himself Jonathan Sims has always believed that he was meant for greatness. Deep in the bowels of the Archives, mopping up the blood of his former Archivist, Elias smiles. He has a good feeling about this one. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and if you like, let me know what you thought.


End file.
